


Worth It

by Kate_MacKay



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Blood and Injury, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Movie: Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, Violence, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-08 05:30:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14098287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kate_MacKay/pseuds/Kate_MacKay
Summary: While trying to relax after a very difficult mission, the Guardians of the Galaxy find themselves caught in a desperate situation trying to save themselves and innocent lives.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note #1: This is totally unrelated to any of my other stories. 
> 
> Author’s Note #2: This takes place not long after the events in Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2.
> 
> Author’s Note #3: I originally intended this storyline to be part of one of my novels, but while I was trying to write the outline for that, the thought "this would be a great story for the Guardians of the Galaxy" kept popping into my head. I finally decided that if this wanted to be a Guardians of the Galaxy story, then that’s what I would write.

CHAPTER ONE:

Gamora was worried about Peter. Ego had affected him deeply. He tried not to show it to the others. He was a good actor, hiding behind brash confidence and confusing Terran phrases, but she could see through it. She knew he hadn’t slept well in weeks and in unguarded moments she could see the pain in his eyes.

Gamora wanted to help him. She had tried to let him know how she felt, how important he was to her, but she was inexperienced and uncertain expressing emotions. And just when she had been ready to talk with Peter, this mission happened.

It had been a difficult job that affected them all. Nova Prime had asked them to take care of a slavery ring that eluded Nova Corps. Using Quill and Kraglin’s unsavoury contacts from their Ravager days, they managed to infiltrate and end it. But the mission had not left them unscathed.

Some of the children involved reminded Drax of his daughter. One of the villages affected had been Kraglin’s hometown. Mantis recalled her years of living under Ego’s control. Rocket had taken a blaster shot to the leg that left him limping and Groot very worried. Gamora didn’t like how much it had reminded her of her own painful childhood. And Peter… Peter hadn’t said much and that worried her.

As they stood in Nova Corps headquarters listening to Nova Prime, Gamora hoped they could get back to the _Quadrant_ soon so she could talk to Peter.

Nova Prime finished her speech praising the Guardians. “For your tireless work solving this terrible situation, I thank you.” She studied each of them. It wasn’t difficult to see they were all on the edge of exhaustion. Sympathy filled her eyes. “In addition to the units transferred to your account, Nova Corps will send you for a week to the Marva Resort on the South Coast. You look like you could use some R & R.”

Quill nodded. That was an understatement. He could sleep for a week and probably still feel tired. “Thank you, Nova Prime.”

 

* * *

 

The Marva Resort was a sprawling building situated at the edge of a broad white sand beach. The lobby was a bright atrium decorated with a variety of exotic plants. A large ballroom, casino, and some restaurants and bars surrounded the atrium. Two long wings of guestrooms extended along the beach from either side of the central atrium. All the rooms were luxurious suites with balconies overlooking the water.

The resort was bustling with activity when the Guardians of the Galaxy arrived. Most guests looked rich, important, or both, making Quill feel very out of place. He glanced at his friends. A motley bunch of ex-criminals definitely wasn’t the typical clientele.

“Busy today,” Quill commented as he checked in.

“Yes, more than usual,” the front desk clerk agreed. “That big treaty negotiation Nova Corps is hosting starts tomorrow. All the diplomats, their aides, assistants, the press… They have the entire east wing and half of the west. You’re lucky to have rooms, but we always try to keep a few available for special Nova Corps guests.”

“Lucky us.”

The clerk handed Quill a map of the resort complex. “We have three restaurants, two bars, a casino, spa, two swimming pools, and of course, the beach. If you need anything during your stay, let us know.”

“Thanks.” Quill turned to the rest of the Guardians of the Galaxy. “We’ve got a block of rooms on the fourth floor.”

“That’s nice,” Rocket dismissed. “The more important thing is where’s the casino?”

“I am Groot!”

“I will not get kicked out!” the raccoon argued.

 

* * *

 

Quill knocked on Gamora’s door. She answered almost immediately. And suddenly he was at a loss for words. It seemed no matter how often he saw her, she was breathtaking.

Gamora also did not speak immediately. Quill wasn’t wearing his Ravager jacket and she took a long moment to admire his height and the way his dark shirt fit just snug enough to highlight his broad shoulders. She could no longer deny her attraction to him and she was beginning to admit to herself it went beyond the physical. “Yes, Peter?” she finally asked.

“Um… Yeah… Is your room all right?”

“Nicer than anywhere I’ve stayed before.”

“The others went to the casino,” Quill informed, gesturing vaguely down the hall.

“Why didn’t you go?”

He shifted, looking a little uncertain. “I thought we could, maybe, talk.”

“Yes, perhaps we should.” Gamora motioned for him to enter the room. She shut the door behind him.

“Thanks.” He paced as he searched for the right words.

Gamora caught his hand and led him to the sofa in the suite, where they both sat. “What’s wrong, Peter?”

“We’ve never really talked about… this thing between us.”

“With the aftermath of Ego, then the job for Nova Prime… We never really had the chance.”

“We do now,” Quill replied softly. She still held his hand. He looked at their intertwined fingers before lifting his gaze to her face. With a pained expression in his green eyes, he admitted, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you back there on Ego’s planet. I said some mean things and I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Gamora studied him and saw the sincerity and regret in his expression. “I believe I hurt you, too, when I denied my feelings for you. The truth is, I care for you, but it makes me… afraid.” She whispered the last word.

Quill nodded. He wasn’t sure what to say. He was positive she had never admitted feeling fear to anyone before and was glad she trusted him enough to tell him. But he didn’t want her to be afraid. He wanted to bring her happiness and give her love.

“So what do we do now?” she asked.

“Whatever feels right for us, I guess.” After a long pause, Peter loosely put his arm around her shoulders.

Another long moment passed and then Gamora leaned into him. She felt his warmth and the solid strength of his muscled chest through the thin material of his shirt. She could hear the steady, reassuring beat of his heart. After so many years of living under the toxic rule of Thanos in an environment of constant fear and suspicion, it was a strange feeling to have someone she trusted completely, someone who made her feel totally safe.

“This is nice,” she said as she looked at Peter’s face.

“Yeah,” he replied softly. The look in his eyes reminded her of his expression when they had danced together on Ego. It was a look that made her feel different, but not in a bad way. She had spent much of her life denying and hiding her feelings, but she was finally beginning to accept that she was allowed to have emotions and it was safe to express them to Peter.

As he slowly lowered his head, she lifted her face to his. Quill’s eyes slipped shut as his lips neared hers. She felt a flutter of anticipation.

And then a thunderous knocking sounded on the door.

Quill groaned as he and Gamora jerked apart in surprise.

“Ignore it,” she suggested. “They will go away.”

“I am certain they are in there,” Drax declared loudly in the hallway before pounding on the door again.

“I could pick the lock,” Rocket stated. “These hotel locks are a joke. A minute, tops.”

“He will,” Gamora conceded.

“Yeah,” Quill agreed. “We better see what they want.”

Gamora went to the door, firmly ordering, “Do _not_ pick that lock.”

Quill hung his head with disappointment. This was why he didn’t gamble. His luck sucked. Letting out an exasperated sigh, he stood up and joined Gamora.

Yanking the door open, she found the rest of the Guardians standing in the hallway. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“The casino sucks,” Rocket complained as he limped inside.

“I am Groot!” the small tree added from his perch on the raccoon’s shoulder.

“And they make unreasonable demands at the bar,” Drax declared.

“What happened?” Quill questioned. He rubbed his hand across his face, dreading the possibilities. “Please tell me you didn’t start a brawl. Or destroy the bar.”

Mantis hesitantly explained, “We were told there is a policy. No shoes, no shirt, no service.”

“What kind of dumbass policy is that?” Rocket asked indignantly, looking at his feet and then glancing at Drax.

Kraglin spoke up. “I know this place in town that won’t mind folks like us. We was wondering if you wanted to come, too.”

Peter and Gamora shared a look that Rocket didn’t miss.

“Ah, hell!” the raccoon exclaimed. “I think the lovebirds have other plans.”

“Oh…” Mantis nodded her understanding, her antennae bobbing. “You want to be alone together.”

Drax looked at her in confusion. “How can they be alone if they are together?”

“They have feelings for each other,” Mantis tried to explain. “They need time to…”

“I am Groot!” he interrupted with a big smile.

Rocket’s eyes widened in shock. “How do you know about that? You’re too young!” He looked accusingly at his friends. “Who taught him about that?”

With a firm hand on Rocket’s shoulder, Gamora stopped him and steered him out the door. “Go have fun tonight.”

“I am Groot!”

“I am _not_ telling them that,” Rocket stated as he limped down the hall towards the lobby.

“Tell them what?” Mantis asked, following the raccoon. She paused, turned back to wave to Peter and Gamora with a smile, then continued after Rocket. “What did he say?”

Drax clapped a hand on Quill’s shoulder. “I am surprised Gamora has chosen you as her mate. I wish you luck not disappointing her.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Quill replied, forcing a polite smile. But he wasn’t really upset. Drax was just being Drax. “Keep Mantis safe tonight.”

“Of course I will,” the big man vowed.

“Kraglin,” Quill called to the former Ravager as he turned to follow the others. “Try to keep them out of trouble.”

“Do my best, Capt’n.” He paused, shifting uncomfortably as he looked between Peter and Gamora. “I’m… uh… glad for you. Have a nice time together.”

Quill smiled. “Thanks, Kraglin.”

Gamora shut the door and turned to Peter.

He shook his head in exasperation. “I wouldn’t trade them for the world, but their timing sucks.”

“They mean well,” she excused. “Drax tried to give me advice about you earlier.”

Quill chuckled. So he wasn’t the only target for the Destroyer’s relationship advice. “I’m surprised he didn’t tell you to find someone less pathetic.”

“You are _not_ pathetic, Peter,” she replied firmly, but admitted, “although he did say that.”

Trying not to look too disappointed that their moment had been spoiled, Quill said, “I guess I should get back to my room.”

“Peter,” Gamora grasped his hand. “Please stay.” She glanced towards the balcony. “Watch the sunset with me?”

There was no way he could say no. They opened the sliding glass door and went onto the balcony together. The air was fresh with the scent of the sea and carried just a hint of coolness as the first of Xandar’s three suns disappeared beyond the horizon.

“My homeworld had only one sun,” Gamora recalled.

“That’s like Earth. One sun. One moon.”

“Do you miss it?”

“When I was a kid I did, but not anymore. This is my home, where my family is.” His green eyes were soft in the waning light. “This is where you are.”

Gamora nodded. Her homeworld had been destroyed long ago, but for the first time since then, she felt she belonged somewhere. There was a place that offered her acceptance, comfort, and… love. That place was with Peter, but she didn’t quite know how to tell him.

So she turned to him slowly, stood on her toes, and tentatively brushed her lips against his, hoping she could express what remained unspoken. He returned her kiss and she could feel his deep emotions and his tender care, but also his restraint. Suddenly, Gamora realised she didn’t want restraint. She wanted all of him. “I’m not going to stab you, Peter.”

Visions of Gamora holding a knife to his throat on a different balcony far away on Knowhere flashed in Quill’s mind and he smiled at the memory. It was there that he began to fall in love with her. That feeling had grown deeper and stronger and he understood the permission she was now giving him. Stepping closer, he gathered her into his arms. As their lips met, he opened his heart and poured all his emotions into the kiss.

Finally breaking apart, they gazed into each other’s eyes. Gamora smiled with just a hint of wonder, as though she had just experienced one of the best moments of her life. Quill couldn’t help but smile smugly that he was responsible and was determined to give her more moments like that.

They kissed again. As if on cue, both deepened the kiss, tasting and teasing each other. Quill’s fingers found a way under the hem of her top and softly brushed across her skin. She hummed her pleasure at all the exquisite feelings his touch aroused.

Somehow, without breaking apart, they made their way from the balcony to Gamora’s bed. Along the way, Quill deposited his blasters on a side table as Gamora worked to untuck his shirt. She exclaimed with satisfaction when she succeeded and pulled it over his head. Tossing it aside, she ran a finger down the solid muscles of his abdomen as she smiled her approval of his chiseled form.

Quill groaned softly at the feeling of her touching him, leaving a trail of fire that instantly had his groin tightening.

Gamora was pleased she could get that sort of reaction from him. She reached for him again, but he stilled her hands with his own.

“Wait… Wait.”

“What’s wrong?” Suddenly concerned, her smile faded.

“This is the first time I’ve done this when it actually means something and I want to do it right. I want you to know how much you mean to me.” He smiled lopsidedly. “Mantis kind of spoiled it, but I have to say it myself. Gamora, I…”

A burst of weapons fire in the hallway interrupted.


	2. Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO:

There was screaming and angry shouting and more gunfire. A door was kicked in somewhere down the hallway. Gunshots abruptly ended a shriek of fear.

“What the hell is going on?” Quill exclaimed.

There was more gunfire in the hall and a booming voice commanded, “Don’t kill them all! We need hostages.”

Another door was kicked open, this one closer to theirs.

Gamora looked for an escape route. “Let’s go!”

“Where?”

“Outside!” She ensured her blade was clipped into place as she rushed to the balcony.

Quill grabbed his shirt and pulled it on, not noticing it was inside out and backwards. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the first time he had to escape a woman’s bedroom half-dressed. He just never thought he’d be doing it again. Not since he met Gamora. Hurriedly grabbing for his blasters, he knocked one behind the side table. He hesitated, wanting both, but angry voices just outside the door convinced him he didn’t have time to move the table to get it. He rushed after Gamora.

She stood on the balcony, staring at a glowing golden barrier rising from the lawn and completely surrounding the resort. “They have a forcefield fence!” she exclaimed.

Looking back into the room, Quill said, “We got bigger problems right now. They’ll find us out here!”

“We’ll go next door,” Gamora decided. “They were just there. I doubt they’ll go back.”

Gamora leapt to the neighbouring balcony with acrobatic grace that made it look easy. Quill frowned at the significant distance and glanced at the ground four storeys below. He wished desperately for his jet boots.

“Hurry, Peter!”

He couldn’t even get a running start. Climbing onto the railing, he took a deep breath and jumped. It was definitely not graceful. Quill hit the edge of the other balcony hard, driving the breath from his lungs. He would have fallen, but Gamora reacted instantly and grabbed his hand. She hauled him over the railing onto the balcony, where they fell together in a tangle.

They could hear the door broken down in Gamora’s room.

“We gotta get inside,” Quill said. “We’ll be seen out here.”

Gamora scrambled from under him and tried to open the sliding door. “It’s locked. We have to go up.” Before Peter could say anything, she climbed onto the railing, jumped upward, and caught the edge of the balcony above. She easily pulled herself up.

Quill staggered to his feet and swiftly followed, pulling himself up and disappearing from sight just seconds before he would have been seen by one of the attackers stepping onto Gamora’s balcony. Around the resort, gunfire, shouting, and the sounds of general panic and violence continued.

“Let’s get inside,” Quill whispered. “Call Nova Corps and find out what the hell is going on.”

They stepped through the shattered glass of the sliding door into a room marked with the blackened burns of blaster fire. A body was sprawled on the floor near the bed. Quill went to the viewscreen in the room and tried to open a line to Nova Corps. Nothing. He hit the screen harder. Still nothing.

“They’ve cut comm channels,” Gamora observed. “Whoever these people are, they must be well-funded and well-organised to set up a forcefield fence, cut comms, and attack the resort so quickly and effectively.”

“Yeah. I bet it has something to do with that treaty negotiation. Someone’s not happy with it and here we are, stuck in the middle.” Quill looked around the room. He searched through the single suitcase that was open next to the bed. Finding nothing useful, he checked the pockets of the dead man, but found no weapons or transmitter. “If I could get back to my room, I could call Rocket. I have a transmitter in my stuff. He usually carries his.”

“We might be able to,” Gamora replied, listening carefully. The gunfire had almost ceased and it sounded like the angry shouting was moving away towards the lobby.

“Let’s give it a shot. Hopefully Rocket can find out what’s going on.” Quill opened the hotel room door a crack. They were close to the large central atrium with walkways looking down on the lobby a few floors below. Down the hall in the other direction, there was a stairwell. Burn marks and holes in the wall from weapons fire marked the corridor, but for the moment everything was quiet. “It’s clear.”

Together, they cautiously crept down the hallway towards the stairwell. And then they heard voices. Voices getting louder.

“Hide!” Gamora whispered.

Quill looked up and down the hallway for a place.

The voices were getting closer.

He spotted a door that hadn’t quite latched after being kicked in. “This way!”

Once in the room, Gamora left the door open a crack and cautiously peeked outside. She watched a group of three hostages escorted by a tall Kree warrior armed with a rifle walk towards the atrium.

“It’s Kree Purists!” she mouthed to Quill. After they had passed, she crept out the door and stealthily made her way towards the atrium.

“Gamora, what are you doing?” Quill whispered, but he followed her.

She paused at the end of the hall, looked both ways, and crouching low she ventured onto the walkway that looked down on the lobby. Quill reluctantly followed. He muttered a curse at the scene below.

Bodies were everywhere, left where they had fallen in the initial attack. Purists now escorted hostages into the ballroom. Gamora counted the number of Kree and the number of their prisoners. Quill’s attention was caught by something else. Two Kree wheeled a large black crate towards the elevators.

“What’s that?” he softly asked and straightened slightly to get a better view. “Oh, shit.” His eyes picked out the blinking display and bundle of wires of a detonator sitting on top of bricks of explosives. Lots of bricks of explosives.

Gamora followed his gaze and sucked in a surprised breath. “That’s plastex. It’s a very powerful explosive.” She glanced at Peter.

His expression was uncharacteristically grim. “That much in the right place could take down the entire building. Or more.”

“Let’s get to your room,” Gamora whispered as she carefully moved back to the hallway. “We need to talk to Rocket and let Nova Corps know what’s going on in here.”

They made their way to the stairwell at the end of the long hallway. Opening the door slowly, Quill looked up and down the stairs as he listened carefully for any sign of more Kree. The stairwell was silent; all sounds from the sudden burst of violence had faded. He and Gamora made their way down one storey, then hurried the short distance to his room.

The door had been forced open and would no longer close properly, but Quill was happy to see that his bag had not been touched. The Kree had been looking for people, not valuables. He fished through the pack and found the transmitter. Turning it on, he frowned.

“Peter, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer as he changed a few settings, then changed them again.

Coming to stand beside Quill, Gamora repeated her question.

“They’re jamming standard transmitter channels.” He handed her the device.

She double-checked the settings, then sat down dejectedly on the bed.

Quill sat next to her. “So much for the relaxing week Nova Prime promised.”


	3. Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE:

“You were right, Kraglin,” Rocket said as they walked from the nearby town back to the resort. “That’s a great place.”

“I won fifty units,” Drax declared happily.

“I am Groot!”

“They were very accepting of us,” Mantis noted.

“Thanks, I’m glad you liked it,” Kraglin replied, genuinely pleased. He felt lost after Yondu’s death. The only captain and crew he had ever known were gone and he wasn’t sure if he belonged with Peter’s new crew. But they happily accepted him without reservations and he was finally starting to feel like he was part of the group.

“Whoa, what’s going on here?” Rocket questioned as they approached the resort. The road was blocked by emergency vehicles and Nova Corps officers. Hurrying forward as fast as his still aching wounded leg would allow, Rocket caught a glimpse of a glowing forcefield fence surrounding the resort before a Nova officer blocked his view.

“Authorised personnel only!” he barked. “You have to get back!”

“We’re the Guardians of the Galaxy!” Rocket exclaimed.

The officer didn’t look impressed. “We do not require your assistance. Now get…”

“Our friends are in there!” Drax interrupted.

“So are a dozen ambassadors, the Crown Prince of Brevaria, and a Markarthan Countess, not to mention a lot of people more important than your friends.”

“I am Groot!” the tiny tree declared indignantly.

Drax looked as though he was about the tear the limbs from the Nova officer, but Mantis quickly stepped between them. She gently placed her hand on the officer’s forearm. Her antennae glowed as she said, “We are concerned for our friends and need to know what is happening.”

The officer’s demeanour instantly changed. “I don’t know about your friends. Honestly, we don’t know much right now. A group of Kree Purists led by someone named Rovak have control of the Marva Resort. There’s an unknown number of Kree, an unknown number of hostages, and an unknown number of casualties. We have no idea how they were able to set up the forcefield fence so quickly, but we were warned that if we try to knock it out, they’ll start killing hostages. Our negotiator will be arriving soon. We should find out more then.”

“Thank you,” Mantis said sweetly. She let go of his arm as the light of her antennae faded. She turned back to the rest of the Guardians and quietly told them, “He feels anger, but also hopelessness. I suspect he thinks there is no way to save the hostages.”

“Bullshit!” Rocket exclaimed. “We’re getting Quill and Gamora out. Come on, let’s get to the _Quadrant_. I need to plan.” He turned to go to the spaceport where the ship was docked and collided with a familiar Nova officer hurrying towards the rest of the Nova Corps personnel. He stumbled and sprawled on the ground.

“Rocket!” Denarian Dey helped the raccoon back to his feet as he asked, “What are you doing here?” He looked to the rest of the Guardians. “Where’s Quill?”

“In there, with Gamora.” Rocket gestured towards the resort. “You know what’s going on?”

“No, I just got called in. Something about Kree Purists taking hostages. I’m sorry about Quill and Gamora,” he added sincerely.

“If you hear anything important, let us know,” Rocket instructed. “Call the _Quadrant_.”

“I’ll see what I can find out.”

 

* * *

 

Angrily tossing his transmitter onto the big table in the galley, Rocket growled, “They’re jamming all normal frequencies.”

“That Nova officer said there were casualties,” Mantis said unhappily as she stood in the middle of the room, wringing her hands nervously.

“The Kree Purists will not want to kill Quill and Gamora,” Drax assured as he sat at the table sharpening a knife.

“No?” Mantis looked hopeful.

“Of course not.” The big man explained, “After what we did to Ronan, they will certainly wish to torture them first.”

Mantis looked horrified.

“I am Groot!” The small plant had tears in his eyes as he looked to Rocket.

“No, Groot, you _will_ see them again,” the raccoon replied vehemently. “This is Quill and Gamora we’re talking about. They _will_ stay alive and we _will_ bring them home.” He stood up and paced despite the pain in his leg. “We’re the frickin’ Guardians of the Galaxy, we can do this.” He paused a moment, looking at the others. “We need to figure out how to take down a small part of the forcefield fence in a way the Kree won’t immediately notice. And if I could just talk to Gamora or Quill, find out how many Kree there are and what’s going on inside, that’d be even better.”

“Yondu took out a piece of a security net at the A’askavariian Art Institute when we robbed it some years back,” Kraglin stated. “A security net is sorta like a forcefield fence.”

“How’d he do that?” Rocket questioned.

Kraglin shifted uncomfortably. “Don’t know. I didn’t work on it. But the capt’n, he kept notes on useful stuff. Might be in there.”

“Let’s look at his notes.”

 

* * *

 

Rocket and Kraglin looked at a viewscreen together, searching Yondu’s notes for information on how he got around the security net, but Yondu was not organized. His notes weren’t alphabetic—in any language. They weren’t chronologic. There seemed to be no pattern at all. Rocket suspected they made perfect sense to the blue idiot, but to anyone else they were a mess.

Groot sat on Rocket’s shoulder, trying to help. “I am Groot.”

“No, that’s notes on the A’askavariian bank job,” Rocket replied.

“I am Groot.”

“No, that’s the schematic for Quill’s translator implant.”

“I am Groot.”

“That’s a list of black market buyers in the Spartax Empire.”

“I am…”

“Wait!” Rocket interrupted. “Go back to the translator schematics.”

Kraglin brought up the diagram on the viewscreen.

Rocket smiled. “Keep looking for Yondu’s notes on the security net. I have an idea.”

 

* * *

 

Around Quill’s room, everything was quiet. It seemed the Kree believed everyone was either dead or their prisoner. No one was searching rooms anymore or patrolling the halls, so Peter and Gamora sat on the bed in his suite, relatively safe for the moment. Each was silent with their own thoughts. Gamora focused on escape. Quill pondered something else.

“I was thinking about him… Ego,” Peter finally said.

His timing was terrible, finally bringing up the subject in the middle of a crisis, but at least he was talking about it. Gamora set her hand atop his. “Go on,” she urged.

He hesitated, unhappy with the direction of his thoughts.

Gamora squeezed his hand reassuringly. Her dark eyes were filled with care and concern. “I am here for you.”

Nodding, he let out a slow breath. Quill stared at a spot on the floor as he explained, “He killed my mother.”

“Oh, Peter…” Gamora knew how important his mother was to him. She had no idea how to respond to the revelation that Ego had killed her, so she just held his hand and let him talk.

“He told me he loved her, but he killed her when she didn’t fit into his crazy take over the universe plan. Same with I don’t know how many of my half-brothers and half-sisters… He just killed them when they didn’t fit his plan. No hesitation, no regret.” He paused a long time, but Gamora waited, knowing he had more to say. “You know, for a moment back there on Ego, he almost had me convinced his plan was good.”

With gentle fingers, Gamora cupped his cheek and forced him to look at her. She studied him knowingly. “You are worried that you are like him?”

Reflected in his eyes was the dread that it was true. “My father was a mass murderer who killed countless members of my family and wanted to destroy the universe.”

“Just like Thanos is not my father, Ego is not yours.”

“But my mom and Ego…”

Gamora stopped his words. “There is much more to being a father than providing the genetic code to make a child. Ego had nothing to do with making you the man you are today. That belongs to you and your mother.”

“And Yondu,” Quill stated, his voice tinged with a hint of regret.

“And Yondu,” Gamora acknowledged. Rocket had told her some of what had occurred before he, Yondu, and Kraglin had arrived on Ego. It forced her to revise her opinion of the Ravager captain. He was a very imperfect man and definitely not the best parental role model, but he had obviously loved Peter.

Softly, Quill added, “And you, Gamora.”

She held his hand as she rested her head against his shoulder.


	4. Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR:

“Peter, take off your shirt.”

“Uh… Gamora… Now?”

She responded with an annoyed, yet affectionate look. “Your shirt is inside out. And backwards.”

“Oh. Yeah. Definitely not a good look for me.” He flashed a self-depreciating smile as he stood.

Gamora admired his physique as he pulled off his shirt. Her eyes lingered on the solid muscles of his chest and abdomen. She was still trying to understand what he sparked within her. There was definitely physical attraction—she couldn’t deny he was a handsome rogue—but there was so much more. He could be silly and exasperating, but he had a good heart and was a true friend. The emotions he awoke in her were frightening and confusing and absolutely wonderful and all sorts of things she couldn’t begin to describe. The many years under the cruel rule of Thanos had taught her to deny her feelings, making all of this a new experience. If only they hadn’t been thrown into another life or death situation… Maybe then she could have taken time to explore and understand what she was feeling.

Quill’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. “We can’t stay here. We need to escape.”

Her focus immediately shifted back to their predicament. “Yes, preferably with the hostages.”

“Wait… Us against an unknown number of Kree Purists and you want to rescue an unknown number of hostages?” he asked.

“I counted thirty-eight Kree and twenty-two hostages, but there are undoubtedly more.”

Quill looked thoughtful. “To rescue them we have to get past the Kree, their forcefield fence, and hope they don’t blow us all up with that massive bomb because Kree Purists are just crazy enough to do that.” His lips curved into a wry smile. “I guess we’ve faced worse.”

She returned the smile. “Let’s try to have more than twelve percent of a plan this time.”

 

* * *

 

Quill paced back and forth next to his bed. “When I was younger, Yondu took down a security net at an art museum. Those are kind of like a forcefield fence.” He stopped and looked at Gamora, regret lurking in his eyes. “I remember him telling me about it and telling me to pay attention, but…” He sat down on the bed, hanging his head. “But I was a smartass teenager who didn’t listen.”

“Peter, I’m actually more concerned about that bomb than the forcefield fence,” Gamora stated. He looked up at her as she explained, “I think they’re using the hostages to get attention while also buying them time to set up the bomb. I don’t think they plan on letting anyone escape alive. The Purists are absolute fanatics and will be happy to die if it hurts the Xandarians and Nova Corps.”

Quill nodded slowly as he thought about the situation. “If they just kill the hostages, it’ll make the news today and be forgotten tomorrow when something else happens. If they keep the hostages a few days, hint that they might be released… Every news outlet in the galaxy will be reporting endless updates.”

“And the Kree Purists will have a big audience to witness them killing all those dignitaries who were here for the treaty negotiations under Nova Corps invitation and protection,” Gamora concluded.

“Yeah, that would definitely make Nova Corps look bad, even to their closest allies, and make this group of Purists heroic martyrs to others.”

“So our priority should be disabling that bomb.”

Quill agreed. “I wish Rocket was here for that. Although…” He pictured the bomb he had seen in the lobby. The detonator had not been rigged. “If I could steal that detonator before they set it, all those explosives would be useless.”

“How are you going to do that? The Kree won’t just leave it laying around for you to pick up.”

“Hey, I’m an honourless thief, remember?” Quill replied with an easy, teasing smile. “I’ve got some useful skills. We just need to figure out where they went with that bomb.” He went to the small table where he had tossed the map of the resort he had been given at check-in.

Gamora joined him, standing close enough that their arms were touching. “It looked like they’re keeping the hostages here.” She pointed to the ballroom. “If they want to destroy as much of the building as possible, they should set the bomb on a lower level near a main support wall.”

Pointing to a beachfront restaurant beneath the lobby on the ground floor, Quill suggested, “Down there might be good.”

Gamora nodded. “Yes, if they set the explosives anywhere in that area, it should collapse the entire central part of the hotel. Probably most of the guestrooms as well. Plastex is a very powerful explosive.”

“OK, so the Kree are all around the central lobby area.” Quill’s eyes scanned the map. “So the best way down to that restaurant unseen…” He scratched the side of his neck as it tingled and tugged on his ear as he heard a sound in his head almost like the static on an old transistor radio. He tried to focus on the map, but heard more hissing static and then Rocket’s voice.

“Quill, can you hear me?”

Then Drax. “If he is a hostage, he may not be able to speak.”

“Quill, cough or sneeze or something if you can hear me,” the raccoon ordered.

Gamora saw the sudden confusion written on Peter’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“I thought I heard Rocket and Drax,” he explained, tugging at his ear again.

And suddenly everyone was talking at once.

“You did, you idiot!”

“I am Groot!”

“Is it working?” Drax asked.

“Are they all right?” Mantis added.

“What’s going on, Peter?” Gamora questioned.

For Quill, it was sensory overload. He covered his ears, but that didn’t stop the commotion of voices in his head. “One at a time!” he demanded.

“Peter?” Gamora asked softly, looking very concerned but waiting for him to explain.

“Shut up so I can talk to him!” Rocket ordered, silencing the other voices. “Quill, I hacked your translator implant. It’s an older model and I found a way to make it a transmitter using a weird frequency,” he explained.

“So you can hear me?”

“Yes, I can hear everything you can, but obviously only you can hear me.”

“How?” He looked to Gamora, who studied him questioningly. Her concern was growing into worry. “Never mind. Let me tell Gamora. Rocket somehow turned my translator implant into a transmitter. He can hear everything I can.”

She looked surprised. “I didn’t think that was possible.”

“It’s disturbing, that’s what it is,” Quill declared. “Someone could listen to everything I say or hear.”

“Don’t worry, Star-Dork, it wasn’t easy and I could only do it ‘cause your implant is older and it was never updated.”

“When we’re out of here, I’m getting the damn thing updated immediately,” Peter decided.

Gamora quickly focused attention back on the situation. “Rocket, what do you know about what’s going on? Is Nova Corps planning any sort of rescue?”

“No rescue. Some negotiator arrived not long ago, but I have no idea what demands the Kree are making.”

Quill relayed the information to Gamora, then told Rocket about the large bomb and their suspicions of the Kree’s ultimate goal.

“Yeah, they are crazy enough to do something like that,” Rocket agreed. “So what are we facing in there?”

Together, Quill and Gamora explained where the hostages were being held and the number of Kree they had seen.

“That’s a lot of Kree, but not impossible,” Rocket stated. “If we could…”

“I found it!” Kraglin’s excited voice interrupted.

“Let me see that.”

Quill could hear some mumbling voices, but nothing that he could clearly understand. “Rocket? Can you still hear me? Rocket?” He looked at Gamora. “The raccoon isn’t answering.”

“Don’t call me that or I won’t help you!” Rocket’s voice returned loud and clear. “I have a plan to get you out.”

“Great! What is it?”

“Well… I’m still working out the details,” Rocket confessed. “Can you stay out of trouble for half an hour? I’ll get back to you with my plan then.”

“Yeah, we’re pretty safe here.”

“Good. Sit tight.” The voice in Quill’s head went silent.

 

* * *

 

“This is great, Kraglin,” Rocket complimented as he read through Yondu’s notes on disabling security nets. The raccoon’s brain raced to figure out how to use the information. He limped to a viewscreen and began to sketch out an idea. “Drax, I need the hologram projector I took from Nova headquarters. It’s in the storage closet next to my room.”

“When did we get that?” the big man asked.

“When Nova Prime was thanking us for the last job,” he replied. “I always wanted one and they shouldn’t leave things like that laying around. Anyone could steal it.”

Drax accepted the explanation with a nod before leaving the galley to retrieve the equipment.

“Kraglin, find me two Quarnex batteries and a Caleco resistor. The ship’s gotta have some somewhere.”

“Sure does, but it’ll take down the tractor beam,” the former Ravager informed.

“Does it look like we need that right now? Just get the stuff. We’re rescuing Quill and Gamora.”

After Kraglin left the galley, Mantis quietly asked, “What about the hostages?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are we rescuing them, as well?”

“No.”

“Why not?” Mantis was genuinely confused.

“Because I don’t care about them. I care about Quill and Gamora,” the raccoon growled.

“But someone must care about them as much as we care about Peter and Gamora,” Mantis countered.

“Don’t try to make me a hero, because I’m not,” he grumbled.

“Yes, you are. We all are. We’re the Guardians of the Galaxy.” She tried smiling. She still hadn’t gotten the hang of it. “And I know you can find a way to rescue them all.”

“I am Groot,” the small tree approved with a nod.

Rocket uttered a noise that was a cross between a sigh and a groan. “Fine, we’ll get ‘em all out But we’re gonna need some help.” Under his breath, he muttered, “We’re gonna need a lot of help.”

 

* * *

 

“Listen, Dey, didn’t you hear anything I said?” Rocket asked angrily. “I don’t think the Kree are gonna let anyone out of there alive. They’re using the situation to get attention to their cause.”

“We have no indication of a large explosive device in the hotel.”

“No indication? Quill and Gamora saw it!”

“My superiors are not going to believe you’re talking to someone through a translator implant.”

“They can talk to Quill themselves,” Rocket offered.

“You don’t understand.” Dey tried to explain, “The officer in charge is… difficult. Everything has to follow the chain of command and be perfectly by the book. You guys aren’t in the chain of command and nothing you do is by the book. It’s well known he can’t stand the fact that Nova Prime likes you guys.”

“Listen, I risked my life to save your family!” Rocket snarled. “Now I’m asking you to help save mine!”

Dey was quiet for a moment before he acknowledged contritely, “Yes, you did. So what’s your plan?”


	5. Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE:

Rocket took a deep breath. This was the weakest part of his plan. “You know how you helped us take out Ego?”

“I am Groot.”

“Now I have something just as important for you to do.”

“I am Groot.”

“That’s right,” he said with far more gentleness in his voice than he used with anyone else. “We’re getting Peter and Gamora back. But you have to listen to me and do exactly what I say.”

“I am Groot.”

“I know you can.” Rocket tried to sound confident for the little plant’s sake, but he hated placing such responsibility on Groot. Unfortunately, he needed someone who could approach the forcefield fence undetected. Although night had descended, the brilliant yellow glow of the fence brightened the area around it like sunshine. The best one to approach unseen was the tiny tree who could blend in with the tropical plants and lush green lawn at the edge of the beach. Rocket just hoped Groot would be able to set the device he had built to deactivate a section of the fence _and_ activate the holograph generator at the precise place it needed to be to make the fence look undamaged.

After repeating his instructions to Groot several times, Rocket turned to the rest of the Guardians. “You know your jobs.”

Mantis nodded enthusiastically. “I will make the Nova officer… compliant. He will be receptive to Denarian Dey’s plan and request for men.”

“And we will enter through the opening in the fence and kill the Kree Purists,” Drax stated with satisfaction.

“Yeah,” Rocket confirmed. “But you can’t just charge in there or they’ll start killing hostages. We have to go in quiet.” He paused for a moment, thinking. “Maybe Quill and Gamora can help with that. A good diversion could pull some of the Kree away from the hostages.”

 

* * *

 

“Peter, sit down,” Gamora ordered. “Pacing back and forth accomplishes nothing except annoying me.”

“It’s been almost an hour and Rocket hasn’t contacted me. He said to wait half an hour.”

“You have no patience.”

He sighed as he sat on the bed next to her. A wistful sadness filled his green eyes. “Yondu used to say the same thing.”

“Your father knew you well,” Gamora observed gently.

After a long pause, Quill agreed. “Yeah, he did.” He offered her a small, apologetic smile. “I just hate waiting. I’d be much happier doing something to get out of here.”

“We will get out of here,” Gamora replied confidently. “But it will be easier with help from the others. Rocket just needs a few more minutes to come up with a brilliant plan that he’ll gloat about for the next two months.”

Quill and Gamora shared a smile. That was exactly what Rocket would do.

The thought didn’t make Peter any more patient. He stood up and would have resumed his pacing,but Gamora grasped his hand and pulled him back to sit beside her. “What do you plan on doing when we get out of here?” she asked to distract him.

“Not go on any more Nova Corps sponsored vacations,” he grumbled, but as he looked at Gamora, his restlessness eased. She had a way of doing that to him. No matter what the situation, she made him want to be a better man.

“Thank you,” Quill said suddenly.

“For what?”

“Everything you do for me.”

When she had first met Peter, Gamora would have thought it was a line used in an attempt to seduce her. But now she knew him. She knew his different expressions. She could tell when he was teasing and when he was sincere… and when he was thinking about their still unspoken thing.

Quill gently rubbed his thumb over the knuckles of her hand. After a long moment, he said, “You know, we’ve never been on a date.”

“A… date?” It was clear she had no idea what he was talking about.

“Yeah. When a guy… When there’s a girl… a woman.” Quill paused, trying to gather his thoughts. He never thought he’d have to explain the concept of a date to someone. Then again, Thanos wasn’t exactly the sort to allow his “daughters” to even think about dating. He started over. “Drax called it a Terran courting custom.” He looked suddenly concerned. “That makes things sound very serious. I mean, not that I’m not serious, but I don’t want to rush you into anything that you’re not ready for. I just… I’m really screwing this up.”

Gamora smiled despite herself. He was adorable when he lost the brash confidence he wore like armour. She decided to rescue him. “What would we do on a date?”

“Well, I guess we’d start by going somewhere nice for dinner,” he began. “Someplace where Rocket wasn’t building weapons of mass destruction at the table.”

Gamora nodded approvingly, encouraging Quill to continue.

“Then… we’d go for a walk, just the two of us. Someplace nice. Like the beach outside. When there aren’t terrorists all over the place, of course. Or a forest. Or… It doesn’t matter where. We would walk together and talk about things. Like the way I feel about you.”

When she looked into Peter’s green eyes, Gamora didn’t think words were necessary. He could speak volumes with a single expression. She sometimes wished she could be as open with him as he was with her. He deserved to know how she felt about him. If only she could sort out her emotions and figure out how to tell him.

“We will have a good talk on our date,” Gamora finally said, making Quill grin like an idiot.

He leaned in for a quick kiss, but just before their lips met, Rocket’s voice sounded with a burst of static in his head.

“Listen up, lovebirds, we’ve got a plan, but we need your help.”

Gamora saw his sudden change in expression and immediately knew what it meant. “Rocket’s back.”

“Yeah, and he’s got a plan.”

“Right. So shut up and listen to what I need you to do,” the raccoon ordered. “Can you see the big swimming pool from where you are?”

“Yeah.” Quill moved to the glass door of the balcony, carefully standing to the side, pressed against the wall so he didn’t silhouette himself. “What am I looking for?”

“See that segment of the forcefield fence closest to the tropical garden?”

“Yeah.”

“In a few minutes, that will look operational, but it won’t be. You’ll be able to walk right through it.”

Quill passed on the information to Gamora. She immediately asked, “What about the hostages?”

“Yeah, about them,” Rocket paused. “We’re gonna need your help. We’re coming in with Denarian Dey and a squad of Nova Special Forces. These guys are good, but we still have two problems. A lot of hostages will die if we can’t lower the number of Kree guarding them. Problem number two is we have to get everyone out before the Kree have a chance to detonate that bomb. If they think something is up, they will blow the place. These guys are total fanatics after all.”

“So you need a distraction,” Quill concluded. “I can think of one that will solve both problems.”

Gamora’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What are you planning, Peter?” She couldn’t explain how, but she knew he was going to do something dangerous and probably reckless.

“Rocket’s got a plan to rescue to hostages, but needs a distraction and a way to keep the Kree from blowing us all up. If I steal the detonator, that will accomplish both.”

“So we’re back to stealing the detonator, except now we want them to notice we’ve taken it so they come after us.”

“I didn’t say it was a good plan.” Quill flashed a quick, sheepish smile. “But that’s sorta normal for us.”


	6. Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX:

Rocket was amazed. Groot did his job perfectly. The device Rocket had hastily built opened a segment of the forcefield fence and the tiny tree had placed the hologram projector in the precise place needed to make it appear intact. The raccoon tried not to look too surprised as he praised Groot, who grinned broadly.

“Stay with Mantis now, Groot,” Rocket instructed. “She’ll take care of you. You guys did your jobs. Now me, Drax, and Kraglin have to do ours.” He spoke into his transmitter. “Quill, we’re ready for your distraction.”

“OK, Rocket. You’ll hear it when they’re after us,” Peter replied. He continued, “Ready, Gamora?”

“Yes. Rocket, let us know when the hostages are safe.”

“Will do.” He didn’t bother to listen to Quill relaying his words to Gamora. Because his leg still bothered him, Rocket rode on Drax’s shoulder as they made their way towards the resort with Kraglin, Denarian Dey, and a squad of Nova Special Forces. He looked back at Groot and Mantis.

The little tree sat comfortably on her shoulder. Both of them waved, but Groot looked sad and Mantis uncertain. Rocket didn’t wave back. Those two were so naïve, so innocent in a very mean and ugly world.

“Hey, Drax,” he said. “Don’t get dead. We’ve got people who need us.”

 

* * *

 

Gamora was surprised. Peter really did have the skills of an accomplished thief. He hadn’t just been arrogantly bragging. He picked locks with ease. He moved with stealth surprising for a man his size. He seemed to instinctively know where Kree guards would be posted and was able to avoid them.

They found the large bomb in the kitchen behind the beachside restaurant. A single Kree warrior was setting up the explosives against the thick support wall at the back of the room. Quill was certain he could have stolen the detonator, which was sitting on a stainless steel counter, without being noticed, but that wouldn’t help with the hostage rescue.

Glancing towards the swinging door of the kitchen, where Gamora waited just outside to keep their escape path clear, he took a deep breath. Letting it out slowly, he prepared for all hell to break loose.

“Hey! Is this thing important?” Quill asked as he picked up the detonator, a metal box about the size of a football with a tangle of wires sticking out.

The Kree warrior turned in surprise and cursed. Quill tucked the detonator under his arm like a running back rushing for a Superbowl touchdown and sprinted from the room. He burst out the swinging door and then he and Gamora were running down the hall.

“So what do we do now?” she asked.

“Try to get to that opening in the forcefield fence, I guess.” He paused briefly where a corridor intersected the one they were in. He glanced around the corner for any Kree. “We really didn’t plan that far ahead.”

Rocket informed happily, “It’s working, Quill! A whole bunch of Kree are headed downstairs!”

“The Kree are headed this way,” Peter relayed. “Let’s go up.” Headed for the stairs, he skidded to a halt as a Kree warrior stepped into the hallway from the stairwell.

The Purist aimed his rifle at Quill as Gamora ordered, “Peter, drop!”

He didn’t hesitate. He hit the ground just before Gamora’s razor-sharp knife spun through the air above him and embedded itself hilt-deep in the Kree’s chest.

“Thanks,” Quill said as she offered her hand and pulled him to his feet. She bent down to retrieve her knife and pick up the Kree’s rifle. Then they were running up the stairs.

“Not a good plan was an understatement,” Gamora commented. “This is a terrible plan.”

“You always say that.”

“Because it always is.”

“Then why do you sound so surprised?” Quill said it with an easy smile, but she knew better. He hid worry behind careless confidence.

Behind them, footsteps thundered on the stairs as Kree Purists pursued them. Peter and Gamora burst out of the stairwell into a wide, brightly lit corridor. They ran past a souvenir shop and a snackbar. They tried to decide where the best place to run would be, but the decision was made for them when a dozen Kree appeared in front of them.

Trapped between them and the Purists who spilled from the stairwell, Gamora turned and pushed through double glass doors into a relaxation spa. The big room was sparsely furnished with a few plush couches and some massage tables. Large sliding glass doors opened to a wide balcony overlooking the sandy beach.

Quill followed Gamora inside, diving over the top of a couch as blaster fire erupted behind him. The energy pulses set fire to the furniture, adding the pungent smell of smoke to the lingering scent of massage oil in the air.

Peering around the couch, Quill and Gamora returned fire, trying to keep the Kree from getting inside. Over the noise of their own battle, more blaster fire could be heard in the distance.

The Kree heard it, too. One shouted to a group of others, “Find out what’s going on!”

“Rocket! Some are heading back your way!” Quill warned, hoping the raccoon was listening.

He tersely replied, “Can’t talk now. We got our hands full!”

“You have got to be kidding! I think I hate rifles!” Gamora exclaimed as the rifle she had picked up ran out of charges. “Peter, we can’t stay here,” she said as she tossed the weapon aside. “We won’t be able to hold them off for long.”

“Yeah,” Quill acknowledged, shooting at Kree while knowing he, too, was running out of charges. “But where can we go?”

Gamora glanced towards the balcony. “It’s only a one storey drop to the sand.”

“Go. I’ll cover you and be right behind you.”

Moving with her typical swift gracefulness, Gamora darted to the balcony and dropped to the white sand of the beach. It was dark but for the yellowish glow of the forcefield fence surrounding the resort. She could easily see the segment near the tropical garden that was supposedly not functioning. Her eyes picked out a way to get there as she waited for Quill to drop down behind her. A few seconds passed.

“Peter?” she called.

Too many seconds passed. Something had gone wrong.


	7. Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN:

Quill turned to follow Gamora, but tripped over a stool and sprawled on the hard white tile floor. The detonator was knocked from his grasp. He scrambled to retrieve it, but a black boot stomped on his hand just before he could reach it.

Quill cursed at the sudden jolt of pain. And his lousy luck.

One of the Purists picked up the device.

A commanding voice behind Quill ordered, “Get that downstairs immediately. And let us see who this troublemaker is. Get him up.”

Peter was jerked roughly to his feet, his arms pinned by two Kree. A third faced him and more warriors stood nearby.

Recognition dawned in the Purist’s dark eyes. “Star-Lord. There is not a true Kree alive who has not dreamt of vengeance for Ronan.” He looked to his men. “Take him to Rovak. He will be pleased with this unexpected gift.”

A Kree jabbed the barrel of his rifle into Quill’s back and ordered him to move. Peter surprised him by quickly spinning around and knocking the barrel of the weapon aside. The Kree’s finger instinctively tightened on the trigger and he shot one of his comrades. Quill was already moving. His plan had been to sprint to the balcony and drop to the beach before the Kree could react. Admittedly, it wasn’t a very good plan, even by his standards, but he didn’t exactly have much to work with.

He made it three steps before the Kree surrounded him. Quickly assessing his options, he didn’t hesitate, throwing a punch that broke someone’s nose. Ducking under a swing, he knocked another to the ground. Quill jabbed an elbow into someone’s gut and heard a satisfying grunt of pain. But then he was overwhelmed and thrown to the ground. A boot caught the left side of his head. Another vicious kick connected with his ribs. A few more kicks struck him.

“Stop!” the Kree who seemed to be the leader of this group ordered sharply. “Don’t kill him yet. Rovak will want to see Star-Lord and devise an appropriate punishment for him.”

Quill groaned as he was dragged to his feet. He felt blood tricking down his face and far too many bruises to count. And he could only look forward to worse at the hands of the Kree.

 

* * *

 

Gamora wouldn’t, she _couldn’t_ , leave Peter in the hands of the Kree and their legendary tortures. She turned back to the resort, determined to find him. The skills she had honed as an assassin served her well. She moved quietly, stealthily bringing silent death to the few Kree warriors she encountered.

But she saw and heard no sign of Peter. The unfamiliar feeling of fear, like what she had felt on Ego, was growing. What if she couldn’t find him? What if she never saw him again?

With discipline she had carefully developed over the years, Gamora forced her emotions to a hidden corner of her heart and focused on finding Peter. Moments later, she was rewarded with a sight of him.

A group of Kree escorted him towards the kitchen where the bomb was being set up. Two of the warriors held him tightly. It was obvious Quill had put up a fight and not made his capture easy. His knuckles were scraped and blood ran down the side of his face from a cut above his eyebrow. His expression was defiant and she knew he would try to escape again when he had the opportunity. This time she would be there to help—and make the Kree regret ever hurting Peter.

 

* * *

 

Quill was escorted into the kitchen where he had stolen the detonator. There were more Kree inside and the detonator was now installed on the large pile of explosives. The bright red readout menacingly blinked _READY TO ARM_.

“Rovak, we have a special prisoner.”

A tall Kree warrior, taller than Quill, turned towards him. His eyes were pale grey, his face decorated with black paint. “Star-Lord.” He spat the name like a filthy curse. “The murderer of Ronan.”

“Saving millions of people from the nutcase trying to kill them isn’t murder,” Quill argued.

He was rewarded with a sharp punch to the ribs that was sure to leave an ugly and painful bruise on top of the ones he had already accumulated. He bit back a groan and glared defiantly at the Purist.

“Do not disrespect the memory of Ronan!” Rovak ordered.

“Hey, I don’t disrespect his memory,” Peter replied. “In fact, I’m really glad he’s nothing but a memory.”

Rovak grabbed Quill’s chin and forced him to look into his disconcertingly pale eyes. “It will be my pleasure to hear you scream,” he growled threateningly. “It will be great entertainment for my men to toy with you while I toy with the Xandarians and their ridiculous negotiator.” Letting go of Peter, he began to turn away, but decided to pivot back and land one more brutal punch.

His rock hard fist drove the air from Quill’s lungs and he would have collapsed if not for the two Kree holding his arms in a vise-like grip. Rovak looked ready to throw another punch, but a panicked Purist charged into the room.

“Rovak! The hostages! They have escaped!” he announced.

Rovak whirled to face the newcomer and demanded, “How?”

“Right after we sent men to help recover the detonator… They came from nowhere. They killed ten of us before we even knew they were there.”

His face filled with fury, Rovak turned back to Quill. “Are your Guardians of the Galaxy responsible for this? No matter, they will not get past the fence.”

Before Quill could reply, Rocket’s voice buzzed in his head. “We got the hostages. You and Gamora get the hell outta there!”

“Yeah, well, that’s going to be a problem,” Quill replied.

Rovak demanded, “Who are you talking to?”

Rocket asked, “Who was that?”

“A big, ugly Kree,” Peter answered and was rewarded with another angry punch to his already sore ribs.

“Shit! Is Gamora with you?”

“No,” he groaned as he brushed the pain aside.

A Kree warrior burst into the kitchen shouting, “The hostages are gone! They walked through the fence like it wasn’t even there!”

“That’s impossible!” Rovak snarled.

“I watched it happen,” the Kree replied. “I tell you, they’re gone!”

Rovak’s mouth set in a grim line. “Then we have failed in our plans.” He looked at Quill. “And you will be spared the slow and painful punishment you deserve.” He returned his attention to the Kree gathered in the kitchen. “Without the hostages to keep them away, the Xandarians will be coming soon. We will not become their prisoners. All that remains is honour and death. We shall make this our funeral pyre.” He turned towards the large bomb.

Quill moved with such a burst of speed and strength he surprised the two Kree holding him and twisted free from their iron grip. Launching himself at Rovak, he tackled the big man before he could reach the explosives. From the corner of his eye he saw a flash of green and glint of metal and knew Gamora had appeared from somewhere with her blade ready for battle. While he would have preferred she had escaped to safety, a small part of him was glad to see her.

One of the warriors pulled Quill away from Rovak and tossed him aside. Peter landed against a shelf, knocking all sorts of jars and tins of ingredients to the floor, spilling flour, colourful spices, and a Xandarian vegetable that looked a lot like black beans across the floor.

The Kree levelled his pistol at Quill’s chest. He reacted quickly, throwing the first thing that came into his hand—a jar of pickles—at the Purist. The jar hit the Kree’s arm, throwing off his aim just slightly. The energy pulse hit close enough to Quill that he felt its singeing heat, but he had no time to think about that.

Rocket’s voice demanded, “What the hell is happening?”

Peter growled, “Not now! Not a good time!” as he launched himself at the Kree. He knocked the weapon from his hand and while the warrior was still off balance, he grabbed him and rammed him head first through the glass of an oven door.

Behind him, Gamora had waded into the fight. She wielded her blade with fierce efficiency. She moved with grace and beauty that belied her deadly abilities. But Quill had to trust her to handle herself. He needed to keep Rovak away from that bomb.

Quill grabbed the Kree leader and pulled him away from the explosives. Before he could do anything else, someone collided with him and slammed him hard into the metal kitchen counter. His ribs complained at the continued abuse, but Peter turned to face his latest opponent. He quickly had to duck under the swing of a big metal meat tenderiser. Quill decided he hated kitchens as a location for a fight. There were just way too many weird things to use as weapons.

Rocket was still yelling in his head. “Where are you? We’ll come and help!”

“Kitchen.”

“Which one?”

“Ground floor.”

“They’re all on the ground floor, Quill!”

He didn’t have a chance to reply. The Kree smashed the tenderiser into the metal countertop, leaving a large dent where Quill’s head had been seconds earlier. His eyes widened as he avoided another swing of the hammer-like kitchen tool. In desperation, he reached for anything that could be used as a weapon. His left hand found a large skillet while the fingers of his right curled around the handle of a long, three-pronged grilling fork. They definitely weren’t his weapons of choice. He really wished for his blasters, but at this moment he wasn’t going to be choosy.

A resounding clang sounded as Quill blocked the meat tenderiser with the skillet. He then buried the fork into the Kree’s neck and pushed the man aside.

Gamora was fighting the last two Kree warriors standing, while Rovak turned his attention back to the bomb. Peter was certain he would happily detonate it and kill them all.

Quill lunged to stop the Kree leader, but Rovak saw the movement and turned to meet the attack. Too late, Peter saw the dark metal knife in his hand. The razor-sharp blade sliced easily through his shirt and skin, grated across bone, and sank deep into the muscle between two of his ribs.

Shock prevented Quill from immediately feeling pain. Rovak twisted the blade and smiled cruelly. Peter heard Gamora shout his name as the Kree pushed him aside. He landed hard on his side and grunted as the shock wore off and a wave of pain hit him.

Rovak turned to the explosives. Before he could detonate them, Gamora was there, her face filled with fury, her blade stained with Kree blood. She ran the sword into Rovak’s torso, but he growled and reached for the keypad on the detonator, blindly hitting buttons in desperation as death claimed him.

Gamora yanked him away from the bomb and tossed him aside, but it was too late. Somehow he had managed to arm the detonator with a countdown of three minutes seven seconds… Three minutes six seconds…

Clipping her sword to her belt, Gamora dropped to her knees beside Quill. He had managed to push himself to a sitting position propped against the metal counter. His face was drawn with pain and his right hand was clamped tightly against his ribs. Bright blood seeped between his fingers.

“Peter, Rovak managed to set the bomb.” She pulled his left arm over her shoulders. “We have to go.”

Quill resisted. “Time… How much time?”

Gamora glanced at the bright red numbers on the detonator. “Just under three minutes.”

“You’ll never get away in time dragging my ass out of here.” He tried to shake off her support. “You can make it out on your own. Go, Gamora.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m doing fieldwork for my real job this weekend and will be away from my computer and any internet access, so I won’t be able to update this story with the final chapters until early next week. Sorry about that.


	8. Chapter Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT:

"Please, Gamora... Go," Quill begged. "I don't want you to die."

Rocket's voice was angry as he demanded, "Answer me, Quill! What the hell is going on?"

"Bomb got triggered."

"I'm coming!" the raccoon exclaimed. "I'll take care of it."

"No! Not enough time. Keep everyone away, Rocket," Peter ordered. "Gonna blow in less than three minutes."

Gamora immediately seized on another possibility. "Rocket, I'll tell you what I see. You tell me how to stop the bomb."

"It's not that easy," he replied.

"He says he can't do it. Go, Gamora. Please."

"You say you're good at this, Rocket," she responded sharply. "Time to prove it." Folding a dish towel into a thick pad, she covered Quill's wound and pressed his hand firmly over it. He gritted his teeth and tried to stifle a groan at the spike of pain it caused. She ordered, "You keep pressure on that while I tell Rocket what I see."

 

* * *

 

"Rocket says don't cut the white wire... collapsing circuit," Quill said. He swallowed his pain and summoned his rapidly waning energy. "Describe the other wires again."

Gamora forced herself to remain calm, despite the numbers ticking down to zero and the spreading pool of blood beside Peter. She repeated the way the multiple wires connected between a pair of batteries, the timer, and the detonation caps.

"Is she sure they're ionium batteries?" Rocket asked. "Can you confirm it?"

"No... Can't move." Quill tried to find some strength, but he was pretty sure it was leaking onto the floor next to him. "Gamora, sure... they're ionium?"

"Yes, positive." Her voice was a bit harsher than she intended, but they really needed to hurry. The numbers had ticked down to just over a minute.

"She better be, or..." Rocket grumbled, but his voice softened as he added, "Peter, you and Gamora..." He paused. He wasn't the sort who knew how to say these things. "I never told you..."

"We understand," Quill replied softly. "What colour?"

"Red. Cut the red one."

Quill repeated the message. Both he and Gamora held their breath. There was no explosion, but the timer continued to count down.

"What next, Rocket?"

"Yellow."

Quill rasped the instruction. Even talking was getting difficult. He was feeling unnaturally cold and dark shadows were invading the edges of his vision. Rocket was saying something, but his voice sounded distant and he couldn't understand the words.

"Peter Jason Quill!"

Gamora's voice grabbed his attention and he forced his eyes open. When had he closed them? And why was everything so fuzzy and muffled? At least the fiery agony in his side was fading to a dull ache. Unfortunately, everything else was also fading. Fading far, far away.

"Peter, focus!" Gamora wanted to go to him. She hated seeing him hurt and hated being unable to help him or ease his pain. But the numbers were steadily counting down

00:15...

00:14...

00:13...

"Peter, what colour do I cut?"

"Black!" Rocket shouted in his head. "Tell her black!"

Quill took a deep breath and with what seemed like his last remaining energy, he said, "Black." He tried to shout it, but the word came out a whisper.

Gamora quickly cut the wire.

...And the timer stopped with four seconds to spare.

"It worked! The timer stopped!" Gamora exclaimed.

"Of course it did. I'm just that good," Rocket gloated.

Quill didn't repeat the message. His eyes had once again drooped shut.

Gamora rushed to his side. "Rocket! Send medics immediately! Peter was stabbed and he's lost a lot of blood." She pressed her hands against the deep wound, desperately trying to slow the bleeding. He looked so pale. He felt so cold.

But then Quill groaned softly and his eyes fluttered open. He was holding on by a thread, but there was something he had to tell Gamora. Something that couldn't wait any longer. "Can't leave it... unspoken," he whispered. "I _need_ to say it... Need you to know."

"Then tell me when you are better, Peter."

"Might not... have the chance." He tried to lift his hand to touch her, wanting to feel her soft skin and bring her some comfort, but his body refused to respond. "I love you, Gamora," he confessed. His green eyes were filled with the emotion, but also with a touch of sorrow and regret. He wished he had more time, more of a chance to show her the depth of his feelings, but darkness beckoned Quill with a power he no longer had the ability to resist. His eyes slipped shut and his world faded to oblivion.

"Peter! Peter!" Gamora shook him gently. She touched his cheek. But he did not respond. A sudden cold fear gripped her heart. "Don't do this to me, Peter!"


	9. Chapter Nine

CHAPTER NINE:

Gamora did not want to leave Peter’s side. He lay unmoving in the hospital bed, but at least he was no longer deathly pale and the heart monitor beeped a comforting cadence. But she was impatient to see him open his eyes. She was impatient to hear his voice and know without a doubt he would be all right.

But Nova Prime asked to see her. The Xandarian leader wanted to meet with the Guardians of the Galaxy and Denarian Dey to get a first-hand account of what had happened during the hostage situation and thank them for preventing a much greater disaster. Leaving Rocket, Kraglin, and Groot at the hospital with Peter, Gamora reluctantly went to see Nova Prime with Drax and Mantis. If she was asked later, she would not be able to describe a single detail of the meeting. Her thoughts were entirely on Peter.

The doctors had informed her that while Quill had lost a considerable amount if blood and would not regain consciousness for some time, the knife wound had not damaged any vital organs and he would live. Despite their assurances, she couldn’t shake her worry for him or the uncomfortable feeling that had settled in the centre of her chest and seemed to squeeze her heart. It was a sort of pain she had not felt in a very, very long time.

Mantis tried to smile encouragingly as she whispered, “He is a strong man. He only needs time to recover.”

Gamora tried to believe it was true.

 

* * *

 

“I think he’s wakin’ up.”

The rough voice was familiar. One Quill had known for much of his life. But his brain felt blurred and coherent thoughts were far away. He forced himself to concentrate. Kraglin. It was Kraglin.

“Oh, shit. Gamora’s gonna be pissed she’s not here.” That was definitely Rocket.

“I am Groot.”

It was not how Quill expected to awaken. He hadn’t actually expected to awaken. But why wasn’t Gamora there? Where was she? What had happened? Was she all right?

Suddenly desperate, Peter forced his eyes open as he called her name. “Gamora! Where’s Gamora!”

A firm hand on his chest held him still. “She ain’t here,” Kraglin said.

“Nova Prime wanted to see her,” Rocket elaborated. “She wanted to see all of us, but Gamora went with Drax and Mantis.”

“I am Groot.”

“Yeah,” the raccoon acknowledged. “She had to clean up, too. She was covered in blood. Mostly yours.”

“She made us promise to watch over you,” Kraglin stated.

"So she's OK?" Quill questioned.

"She's fine, other than the fact she'll be pissed she wasn't here when you woke up," Rocket replied. His voice became uncharacteristically soft. "You really scared her, Quill." He paused. "You scared us all."

Quill didn't know how to respond. Finally he said, "Sorry. I didn't mean to."

Rocket nodded. Honest conversations about emotions made him uncomfortable, so he quickly changed the subject. "They gave you a new translator unit while you were out. This one looks damn near impossible to hack, so don't get into more trouble I have to rescue you from."

Before Quill could reply, a Xandarian nurse bustled into the room and brushed Rocket, Kraglin, and Groot aside. "It's good to see you awake, Mr. Quill," he stated briskly without any real sentiment behind the words. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been stabbed." Peter shifted slightly and winced at the sudden angry reminder of his wound. "So when can I get out of here?"

The nurse chuckled. "Not for some time. We need to run some tests."

"For what? I was stabbed. That's not a mystery."

The nurse ignored him. "And keep you for observation."

“To observe what? How much I hate hospitals?” Quill shifted again and couldn’t quite suppress a soft groan.

“I’ll give you something for the pain,” the nurse stated.

“No, please don’t,” Quill argued. “Just let me go home.”

Ignoring his request, the nurse added something to Quill’s IV. “That should help,” he said. “You need to rest. I’ll be back shortly to check on you.”

The drug quickly took effect and replaced all feeling with a fuzzy dullness Quill hated. He also hated the constant bustle of activity in the halls and the incessant beeping and buzzing of various medical monitors. Most of all, he hated all the unhappy memories associated with hospitals.

“Guys, you gotta get me out of here.”

“No way,” Rocket replied. “Do you have any idea what Gamora would do to me?”

“I am Groot.”

The raccoon frowned at his tiny tree friend. “Yeah. Thanks for _that_ visual.”

“He said I’m supposed to rest,” Quill argued. “That’s not gonna happen here. I’ll rest much better in my own bed. Come on, Rocket. You’ve broken out of twenty-three prisons. You can break me out of here.”

“No.”

“Then I’ll have to do it myself.”

“He will,” Kraglin warned.

“I am Groot.”

Rocket growled, “ No, you will not help him.”

“He’ll prob’ly hurt himself tryin’ to get out,” Kraglin explained. “Did that once when he was younger. There was this time…” He paused. “Let’s just say Yondu woulda killed him if he wasn’t half dead already.”

Growling with frustration, his fists clenched angrily, Rocket looked from Kraglin to Quill to Groot. He knew it was a losing battle. “Gamora is gonna be so pissed,” he muttered to himself. Speaking to the others, he surrendered, “Fine, we’ll do it. But I will _not_ be blamed for this.”

 

* * *

 

Quill hated being so weak. He leaned heavily on Kraglin as they made their way to the _Quadrant_. At first things hadn’t been too bad, but his strength faded quickly and soon Kraglin was practically dragging him towards the ship. And while Quill was happy the drug-induced haziness was fading, that meant pain was returning and his side was really starting to hurt. A lot.

“What are you doing?!” Gamora had definitely not expected to return from the meeting with Nova Prime to see Peter out of the hospital and stumbling up the gangplank of the _Quadrant_.

Quill smiled. Gamora’s voice was the best thing he could ever hear, even when she was angry.

“We’re getting’ him back to the ship so’s he can rest,” Kraglin explained calmly.

Gamora was not calm. She was livid. “That’s why he was _in_ the hospital. To rest and recover.”

“Can’t rest there, Gamora,” Quill explained, his voice tight with the growing torment in his side. “Please... don’t make me go back.”

Looking at Peter, Gamora’s anger faded slightly. The lines on his face showed just how much he was hurting as he sagged wearily against Kraglin’s supporting shoulder. His green eyes begged her for understanding.

“Drax, help Kraglin get Peter to his quarters,” she decided. She would let Quill explain himself once he was settled back in a bed.

 

* * *

 

Not wanting to face Gamora’s wrath, Rocket and Kraglin quickly disappeared to another part of the ship as soon as Quill was sitting on the bed in his room. The others left a little more reluctantly. Drax clapped a hand on Quill’s shoulder, encouraged him to rest well, and promised to cook a soup that his culture traditionally made for warriors recovering from battle before leaving the room.

Looking between Peter and Gamora, Mantis asked, “Can I help?”

Quill shook his head.

“Not right now. Thank you, Mantis,” Gamora replied.

Groot studied Quill worriedly. “I am Groot?”

“I’ll be all right,” Peter assured.

“He needs rest now. Why don’t you go with Mantis and see if Drax needs help making his soup,” Gamora suggested.

The little tree nodded eagerly and ran out the room with Mantis following. Gamora closed the door and turned to Peter.

“What were you thinking?” she asked angrily. “Are you trying to die?”

“Wasn’t going to die from walking home,” he replied tiredly. “I just couldn’t stay there. Hate staying in hospitals.”

Gamora found it difficult to remain upset at Peter. He looked miserable. He held his right hand tightly against the wound on his ribs and his expression clearly showed he was in considerable pain.

“What’s wrong with a hospital? They exist to make you feel better.”

“I’m told by everyone to rest but it’s impossible. All those machines beeping, doctors and nurses constantly poking and prodding me and running pointless tests… How am I supposed to rest like that?” He was quiet a moment, then added, “And hospitals remind me too much of… of the night my mom died.”

Gamora nodded her understanding. “I won’t make you go back.”

“Thank you.”

“Wait.” She held up a hand. “I won’t make you go back unless you’ve torn your stitches or it gets infected.”

Quill nodded his acceptance.

“And you have to promise to rest.”

“I promise.” He agreed easily, revealing just how bad he felt.

“All right. Let me check the stitches. Take off your shirt.”

Quill hissed with the sudden stab of torment as he moved to comply. Gamora’s hand stilled him.

“Let me help you.” Slowly and carefully, she eased him out of his shirt.

Peeling back the bandages, she studied the carefully stitched wound with concern. It reminded her of just how close she had come to losing him. Quill’s walk to the ship had resulted in a few pulled stitches and some bleeding, but nothing that Gamora thought would require a return to the hospital.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.” The order was completely unnecessary. Movement resulted in several layers of agony in Quill’s side and he had expended what little energy he had getting to the _Quadrant_. He was certain if he tried to stand up he would fall flat on his face.

Gamora returned with a bowl of warm water, some clean cloths, and a first aid kit. She knelt in front of Quill and wet one of the cloths in the water. He smiled softly as he watched her. The deadliest woman in the galaxy, yet her touch was tender and gentle as she carefully cleaned his wound. When she was finished, she found fresh bandages in the first aid kit and covered the raw wound.

She paused when she was finished, feeling his warm skin beneath her fingers. It was a healthy warmth, not too hot from fever or too cold like when he had been bleeding to death and she had been powerless to stop it. Her eyes drifted to the dark bruises scattered across his muscled torso.

Quill noticed her expression harden. “You OK, Gamora?”

“Yes,” she replied a little too sharply. “You need to lay down and rest now.” She took off his boots and helped him undress and change for bed. Her hands were still gentle, but Quill could see in her dark eyes that something was wrong.

With a sigh that ended in a groan, Quill sank into bed against his pillow. He wanted desperately to sleep until the worst of the pain faded, but there were more important things to take care of first. He waited for Gamora to say something, but when she didn’t, he softly prodded, “You know you can talk to me.”

It was true. He was always ready to listen to her concerns and fears, always ready to offer steady, unwavering support. Gamora sat on the edge of Quill’s bed and softly spoke. “I lost everything before. Thanos took it all. What if he does again? Or not even him… Kree Purists… The Sovereign… An accident… What if I lose you? You almost died and I could do nothing.” Gamora looked more distraught than Peter had ever seen her before. “I almost lost you and was totally helpless. You know how that feels. You know how much it hurts.”

Quill nodded. He did know how it felt. Wanting to offer her comfort, he tried to sit up so he could hold her, but he sucked in a sharp breath, gritted his teeth, and clutched his side as the wound stabbed him with a vicious reminder that movement wasn’t a good idea.

Gamora immediately held him still with a firm hand on his shoulder. She rested her other hand against his face and brushed her thumb against the scruff on his cheek. “Let me get you something for the pain.”

“No. Then I can’t feel you touching me. It’s worth the pain to feel that.”

Gamora closed her eyes for a long moment. When she looked up again, her expression had changed. She was no longer angry and upset, but rather seemed to have come to a profound realisation.

“I love you, Peter.”

“You don’t have to say it.”

“Yes, I do. You are worth it.” She leaned down slowly and kissed him.

Although he was tired and hurting he returned the kiss ardently. Gamora felt Peter offer his friendship, his heart, his life, and his unselfish love. She had never been given such a precious gift.

The emotion Gamora felt overpowered her fears and enabled her to drop her formidable defenses. She returned the kiss, opening her heart as she never had before, revealing to Peter the depths of her feelings for him and giving him her strong, unwavering love.

When they finally broke apart, they gazed in each other’s eyes, needing no words to speak the language of their hearts.

Gamora finally broke the silence. “Rest now,” she encouraged as she soothingly ran her fingers through Quill’s hair.

“Stay with me?” he asked just a little plaintively.

“I don’t want to be anywhere else.” She took off her jacket and boots and laid down next to Quill, resting her head on his shoulder.

His wound still burned with angry intensity, but Peter hummed his pleasure as Gamora gently traced soothing patterns on his skin with soft fingers. Focusing on that made the pain fade slightly.

“I finally have you in my bed and can’t do anything,” he complained teasingly.

Quill felt Gamora smile against his skin as she continued to trace patterns on his chest. “Then keep your promise to rest. You… _We_ have something to look forward to when you are recovered.”

The statement make Quill grin. Gamora kissed him lightly before resting her head back on his shoulder. She decided she would reprimand Rocket and Kraglin tomorrow for helping Peter escape the hospital long before he should have. But tonight… Tonight was a time to savour the discovery that while she had lost much in life, she had also gained something priceless. Not only did she have an unconventional family who would risk everything for her, she had Peter Quill and the exceptional love they shared.

~The End~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I apologise for not having this updated earlier, but I broke a finger in the field last weekend. I suck at typing to begin with, and this just made everything worse. But it is kind of funny. It’s the middle finger of my left hand, so now that it’s all taped and splinted, I’m flipping everyone off. I don’t mean to, but I can’t bend my finger. I’m sure this will find its way into a story someday.
> 
> Now to the more important things:  
> I would like to thank everyone who read this. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> Special thanks to everyone who left comments. It means a lot to me that you took the time to let me know how you feel about my story and tell me what you enjoy.
> 
> I don’t know when I might post another story. Right now I’m a bit busy. In addition to my real job as a college professor, I have a non-fiction book my publisher really wants me to finish and a fiction novel I am supposed to be revising for publication. But if another Guardians of the Galaxy story pops into my head, I’ll be sure to post it here.
> 
> My best wishes to everyone and thank you!


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